Catfish
by Hawker97
Summary: Macie and Eddie are the best of friends, but the catch is Eddie lives in England, and Macie lives in America. They've been friends for years having met on the Internet, and are nearly joined at the hip. But Macie feels like he's never been fully honest with her, when that's all she's been. Macie wants answers, but what if they do more harm than good? *Harry Styles and 1D*
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey, guys! This is the story I mentioned I was going to post to Wattpad. I have, and just thought I'd try it here, too. I know this is different from my other stories, but I'm really enjoying writing this story and wanted to share it with you! Please review and let me know your thoughts, I really want to hear what you think and if you want me to post more. I hope your Wednesday is going well :) Also apologies for the cover looking bad and if there are any mistakes, because FF is seriously pissing me off because it won't cooperate at all, and I had no idea what to put for the category, ugh, and my summary was too long so it kinda stinks. Bear with me please, I'm trying, and the FF site is being hella lame.**

**I own all characters in this story ® excluding One Direction and such, and this whole story and the writing and plot, and all of that so don't steal because that's stupid and I love you all so don't go breaking my heart :)**

I storm out of the heavy doors and onto the dirty cement steps as the loud trill of the bell sounds in my ears while dry leaves brush against my legs.

Bleep.

My hand jumps to my jean pocket where I slip out my cell phone that is lit with a message. I open it as my legs make my way across the parking lot and the soles of my shoes crunch on the stray pebbles and bits of glass and plastic.

"**Ya outta the prison yet? xxx**" the text reads as I dig in my bag for a moment until I find my keys. I unlock the door before sliding into my car while the sound of traffic, birds and exclamations of 'TGIF!' fill the air around me as I type up my reply.

I hit the send button on the touch screen and cast my phone to the console and back out of the parking space; a space I pull into and out of 5 days a week - 5 hellish days of my life that are longer than I wish they had to be. I turn up the radio as a modern song buzzes through my speakers while I join the strings of traffic of nothing but the excited teenagers I pass by in the halls and sit by at lunch - ones who don't give a crap about me and act as if I'm just a few feet of taken up space a few desks away from them, or somebody who's different than them and because of that I'm weird.

Bleep.

"_It's where my demons hide, where my demons hide._." the song that pours into every crevice of my car continues as I'm at a standstill.

"**Congratssssssssss**," his reply reads as my foot sits pressed on the brake. My screen changes to my home screen and my boring ringtone sounds before my finger slides across the screen.

"What do you want, dork?"

"It's nice to talk to you too, you idiot," a voice framed by an accent girls find dreamy - including me - meets my ears, and I smile as the line of cars along with trucks move.

"Do you have nothing better to do than call me and harass me?"

"No, not really. There's nothing really on the telly and I don't feel like putting a film on," he responds while I zoom past other cars with the voice of the radio DJ serving as a background noise.

"Gosh, get a life already."

"Yeah, you're talking!" he shoots back with sarcasm coating his words spoken with his raspy voice that I've heard time and time again.

"Ya going to the rugby game tonight?"

"I hate it when you call it rugby! Why can't you Brits just call it football?" I exclaim as trees shades of the ROY in ROYGBIV flit past me in a blur.

"'Cuz football is soccer here! Ever thought that you Americans got the names wrong?"

I shake my head as I mindlessly bite my lip and make a turn.

"No no, I think you guys have it wrong."

"Whatever. So...how ya reckon you're gonna spend your night?" he questions and ideas pop into my mind - all bland and unexciting compared to the things the people I go to school with kept jabbering about today.

"...Hullo? Am I boring you, again?"

"N-no. Sorry, I was just thinking," I respond and I blink hard as I slow down for a red light.

"I don't wanna go home, I can tell you that."

"Ya think they're gonna be at it again tonight?" he inquires as doubt flees me. I sigh.

"I don't know...," I trail off with disinterest in the topic evident in my voice while a flashing cop car zooms through the intersection I'm sat idle at with my elbow propped up on the door where the window ends.

"What about you, Mr. Popular? I'm surprised you aren't out," I speak, trying to go off topic. He laughs before it turns into a content sigh.

"What? I like spending my time sitting at home in front of the telly at 9 PM with nothing to do. It's a good break from things."

"Yeah, you're always Mr. Busy," I comment before memories of him not texting back, not answering my calls - generally not talking to me - for sometimes days on end flash in my mind. At first it was well, weird but now I guess I'm used to it and he did give me an excuse, or lets say a few good ones.

"You're just as busy, though, leading your hectic life."

"Oh yes, spending my nights sitting in my room is really what I look forward to the most after I leave the doors of Hell during the week," I reply with joking and masked sadness hinting in my tone.

"I wish you didn't live so freaking far away," I add in as I cruise down a street lined with cars, happy little mailboxes and cookie-cutter houses. I spot a much too familiar one and I slow down.

"Yeah, I know. Me too..." I sling my bag over my shoulder and hear the crackle of the leaves as I walk towards the house I've known for the seventeen-years of my rather bland life.

He coughs on the other line and I push open the door to find the thin figure of my very own mother stood in the kitchen. We exchange small smiles as I cross rooms to find my own where I fritter most of my time on things like any other teenager from today and this year; just like the guy who yawns as I carelessly toss my bag to the floor. I fall onto my bed with a yawn myself and I curl into my blankets as I turn on some tunes, some from a popular band from today that you can't go long without hearing.

"You're boring," he speaks with a yawn ending his sentence for him.

"No I'm not, you are, you jerk," I respond as I press the Speaker button and gather my wavy hair reaching to the middle of my back into a messy bun. Tonight is going to be a long one, and most likely not much to remember or relay on Monday morning with drooping eyes laced with sleep, but chatting with this goofball makes me forget, for a little while.


	2. Chapter 2

hey guys sorry for no update but I really need you to go follow me on wattpad like right now. I have the same username - Hawker97. My profile pic is a picture of Niall from One Direction wearing sunglasses. I'm doing this and telling you this because I'm scared that my stories might get taken down on here and my account might get deleted or something because of a guideline I violated, or something. seriously please go follow me there. I'm doing this because I don't want to lose you guys I've met on here and who enjoy my stories and who im forever grateful for for that, so this is my backup option I guess. I'm gonna see how things pan out, and if worst comes to worst I'll try my best to upload my stories that are on here on wattpad as well. please pray things turn out okay and I can stay here and just keep me in your thoughts and cross your fingers for me, lots. I'm genuinely afraid something bad will happen and I'll lose the amazing thing I have on this site, and I don't want to, but I need to realize I have no control really as terrified and stressed as I am about this. I'll keep you updated but please please please go follow me on wattpad and try to spread the word about this so I don't lose anybody if something happens. I also made a backup account on here so go follow me, I am not joking about any of this, my stories won't be on here much longer I don't think. my backup account on here is paulmccartneyswife. xoxo


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